The Monster
by Backstage
Summary: One-shot. One drunken rage leads Jack Kelly to do the most desperate thing in his life. Please R&R!


DISCLAIMER: This is NOT a happy story... I guess what you'd call this is the end result of watching "American Psycho" and then getting into an RP session with Trolley where—ah, you'll see.  
  
The basis for this fic is, like I said, from an RP I did with Trolley not too long ago (*whimpers at Trolley*). This fic took it out of me! Be grateful! *coughs* Anyway.  
  
Erm, enjoy to the best of your ability I suppose! Please don't forget to review!  
  
THE MONSTER  
  
As the sun set and began to disappear over the rooftops of Manhattan, Stagey was running as fast as her legs could carry her. It was getting on eight o'clock—almost two hours later than the time she promised Jack that she'd be home.  
  
Jack loved her; she knew this for certain. But here lately Jack had gotten into the bad habit of drinking. It was that tiny raise in the amount he earned that suddenly gave him the freedom to see that his flask was never empty. He always changed when he'd had too much to drink. Some nights, he would be disagreeable, but nothing more.  
  
Stagey ran breathlessly into the lodging house, in search of Jack. The whole building was dark. The rest of the boys had gone to Tibby's for a late dinner. Even Kloppman had left for the evening. Maybe Jack was waiting for her at Tibby's.  
  
She was about to turn around and walk in that general direction before a voice growled in the darkness:  
  
"Where have you been?"  
  
It startled her, to say the least. As Stagey focused her eyes in the darkness to which she was slowly becoming accustomed, she saw a looming figure only two feet away that kind of resembled her Cowboy.  
  
"Oh Jack..." Stagey breathed a sigh of relief. "It's just you. I didn't think you were—"  
  
"It ain't safe for you to be out there so late." Jack took a step towards her. Despite the somewhat caring sentiment, Jack's voice was harsh, completely unlike anything she'd heard from him before.  
  
Stagey continued to gather her breath. "I know... I know. I was just trying to get my papes sold, that's all." She actually broke out into a tiny laugh. "Guess folks just don't buy from girl newsies the way they used to, huh?"  
  
A sound emitted from Jack's throat that resembled a low growl. "Uh-huh." The tone in his voice was one of disbelief.  
  
"Jack..." Stagey gingerly reached a hand out to try to touch his arm. "Don'tcha believe me?"  
  
With a lightning-quick reflex, the air cracked as Jack whipped Stagey's hand away. In the darkness, his eyes developed an odd, frightening light. Then he paused. "Stagey... I—I'm sorry. It's just—ya gotta understand that I'm supposed to look out for ya!"  
  
Stagey would have taken his comment seriously if the pain on her arm had subsided. "Whatever you say, Cowboy," she muttered, exasperated.  
  
"That's more like it." Jack scowled with a small amount of satisfaction. Then, abruptly, his face softened into what might resemble a smile. "So. How's your day been."  
  
Stagey was more than a little worried at Jack's sudden range of emotions. "It was all right, y'know..." She shrugged indifferently then forced a smile. "Nothin' interesting ever happens to me."  
  
"What about me?" Jack snapped.  
  
"What—what are you talking about, Jack?"  
  
"Are you saying that I'M boring? That I'M the one who ain't makin' your like interesting?"  
  
Stagey was incredulous. "Well, no Cowboy. That ain't what I meant at all."  
  
Once again, Jack's face softened. "All right then." His arms wrapped around her in a somewhat forceful embrace. After a brief stint of Stagey not uttering a word, he looked down at her. "Why so quiet, princess?"  
  
Maybe Stagey just didn't hear the question. Or perhaps she didn't choose to answer Jack. In any case, she kept her mouth shut, wondering what was driving Jack to be so volatile.  
  
Disgusted and dissatisfied with Stagey's silence, Jack pulled her away violently, squeezing her arm fiercely. "Baby, I'm talking to you!"  
  
Stagey was startled out of her silence. "Could ya go a little more gentle there, Cowboy?" she said with a wince.  
  
He snarled, only grasping her arm tighter. "Gentle? You want GENTLE? I try ta be nice and that ain't good enough for ya, huh?" He pushed her away.  
  
"Jack..." Stagey's eyes were wide and considerably full of hurt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything..." She gingerly tried to touch his arm in apology.  
  
He slapped her away. "Don't touch me, bitch!"  
  
This was cause for Stagey to stop. He never called her anything like that before. "I—I'm sorry."  
  
"Sorry? You'd better be sorry!" Jack had now lost all common sense as he threw her against the wall, breathing heavily with rage. "I've gotta good mind to take a razor to that pretty li'l neck of yours right now!"  
  
Stagey's eyes widened in fear, but she still tried to reason with Jack. "Look, Jack... I'm sorry if I did anything to upset you, but I—I just don't get why you're acting this way!"  
  
He shook his head, running a hand through his hair in irritation. "Ya don't get it, huh? Ya never seem to get it! What are you, stupid or something?" He raised his hand as it collided with her cheek.  
  
Stagey swallowed. She tried to make it through all of this violent behavior without shedding a tear, but that plan only worked for about five seconds.  
  
"What the hell is this? You're CRYING?" Jack glared at her, disgusted. "I hate it when you cry! Don't you know that by now?" His palm curled into a fist and was brought violently against Stagey's abdomen.  
  
She tried to toughen up and hold back her tears, but as Jack prolonged his violent outbreak, the tears only fell harder. "Jack..." she begged him. "Stop. Please, please stop! I'll be better!" Her comment was rewarded with another punch to her face, causing her lip to split open and bleed.  
  
Jack looked disdainful, now in a blind, alcohol-induced rage. "You'll be good, huh?" He thrust another punch to his girlfriend's stomach. "That's not good enough!"  
  
By now this hostility had carried itself to the vacant bunkroom. Stagey was desperate for someone to be there. There was nobody. Nobody but Stagey and this monster that Jack Kelly had now become.  
  
"I'll do anything, Jack!" Stagey pleaded with him as tears mingled with the blood on her face. "Anything to get you to stop this!"  
  
For a brief second, Jack's eyes lit up with a strange passion. "Anything?" he hissed as he violently threw a vulnerable Stagey onto his bunk, ripping her blouse open.  
  
This sudden incident locked Stagey's eyes with Jack's again. "J-Jack?" she stammered in a fearful whisper. "What are you trying to—"  
  
"Shut up!" he barked at her. "Not a word out of you!" His hands ran up and down her body, forcefully trying to obtain a sense of arousal.  
  
But what could Stagey do for herself at this point? Nothing. All she could do was stare at this monster that loomed over her and long for her sweet, gentle boyfriend that was now nowhere to be found.  
  
"What're you doing?" Jack pushed off of her with revulsion. "Yer too damn tense to do anything, you know that?"  
  
He cracked a blow across Stagey's face before he left her in a sobbing heap, retreating to his own bunk. Hidden under Jack's pillow was a tarnished flask that contained some sort of potent alcohol. He took a greedy swig from it and fell asleep.  
  
With the passage of time came common sense once again. Jack's eyes forced themselves open, letting in a painfully bright sunrise. The other newsies were back—from Tibby's, was it?—and all were sleeping soundly.  
  
Jack moaned, trying to regain consciousness. How did he end up asleep in this position? Why was there blood on his knuckles? The remains of a cold sweat lingered on his brow. He had no recollection of anything.  
  
In his massive hung-over state, his eyes traveled to his girlfriend's bunk. He smiled with reassurance, seeing her shape shrouded in a ratty sheet. His smile quickly faded, however, as Stagey turned in her sleep, revealing a face peppered with bruises, scrapes, and a split lip.  
  
"Stagey!" Jack sprang up to his feet, crossing the room in long strides to kneel by his girlfriend's side. "Stagey... what happened?"  
  
He was surprised to see her eyes flutter open and widen with a sense of panic. "Jack." Her voice came out in a terrified whisper as all memories of last night's beating and near-raping came flooding into her mind.  
  
Jack's face softened with concern. "Baby... it's just me!" He gathered her battered frame in his arms, holding her reassuringly. "What happened? Tell me the jackasses that did this to ya! I'll kill 'em!"  
  
Stagey was reluctant to tell. Jack was being so gentle and kind—the way he always used to be. "Jack... don't you remember?"  
  
"Remember what, baby?"  
  
Stagey's following words came at Jack like an icy stab: "You did this to me."  
  
Jack pulled back sharply with a questioning gaze. "Stagey... Stagey, that couldn't have been me! I woulda never done anything like that to—"  
  
He paused, looking at the wounds that marred his girlfriend's looks. Then, like a rush of floodwater, it came back to him. It was a blur, but it came back to him. His knuckles smashing against that tender cheek, the sting of his palm when it collided with her face, his harsh words. He did this to her. HE did this to her.  
  
"Jack..." Stagey whispered to him after a long, painful pause. "Jack, are you all right now?"  
  
"No..." Jack could no longer bring himself to look at the damage that he had done to someone he cared about so much. "Stagey, I—how could I have—"His face contorted in panic. "Stagey, there's something wrong... there's something wrong..."  
  
Stagey frowned sympathetically, just grateful that her boyfriend was back to the way he used to be. "If you really think there's something wrong, Jack, we can get you help, you know."  
  
Her soft words only made Jack feel more intensely guilty. "Stagey, I didn't mean to do this... I just can't—"  
  
Suddenly, Jack stood up, walking a one-way path to the washroom. His eyes scanned desperately for something—anything—that would soothe his pain.  
  
Then his eyes landed on it: a freshly sharpened razor. It was Jack's ticket to freedom. He took it up in a shaky hand and brought it upon his wrists, slashing at them frantically. He gulped in air slowly, and it wasn't long before he collapsed to the floor.  
  
Stagey leapt out of bed at this sudden sound and was terrified at the sight that lay before her: Jack collapsed, writhing in a shallow pool of his own blood. In an adrenaline rush of pushing away her fears of blood and knives, Stagey knelt at Jack's side, his blood soaking through her clothes, her eyes frantic.  
  
"Oh, Stage." Jack managed a sorrowful smile as he cupped her cheek in a hand sticky with blood. "I'm so sorry... I promised a long time ago that I'd keep you safe from harm—and look what I've done..." His eyes—so bold and unwavering to Stagey—allowed several tears to leak through.  
  
Stagey took a vacant cloth and tried to find Jack's wounds to quell the bleeding. "It's okay, Jack... I forgive everything! We need to get you some help..."  
  
"Stagey, don't." Jack propped himself up. "Don't worry about it. It's already been done. I had to do it... I had to protect you from all the monsters in the world."  
  
"Jack!" Stagey suddenly pressed herself into his arms, just desperate to have him hold her again. "Jack, I'll forgive everything and anything else! Just don't leave me, please!"  
  
With that last bit of strength Jack possessed, he drew her further into his arms. "I love you Stagey. I'm so, so sorry... I love you..."  
  
For the longest time, Stagey rocked herself in the tight hold Jack had around her. He had stopped breathing minutes ago. His heartbeat was now nothing but a memory. But somehow Stagey kept herself in those arms. She knew that if she left them, he'd be dead.  
  
He wasn't supposed to be dead.  
  
THE END (Wipe your eyes and please review!) 


End file.
